


Coward

by TullyJ03



Category: The Secret River - Kate Grenville
Genre: 1800's, Australia, Gen, Period-Typical Racism, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TullyJ03/pseuds/TullyJ03
Summary: Dick's perspective of when Dan captures the Aboriginal boy.This was just a thing I had to do for English and thought that I may as well post it.





	Coward

**Author's Note:**

> Any slang words used to refer to Aboriginal Australians are period typical and I do not condone the use of them.

All I could feel was sick. Not the kind of sick you feel when you come down with a fever, but the type that permeates from your very soul. Maybe a better word would be disgust. Not at the Natives, the very people it seems my own Ma and Da would rather maim than interact with. I feel more disgust towards the man, no, monster, that was emerging from the tree line. I heard Dan’s yelling from inside the homestead, giving Ma a right scare.

“Go out and check why he’s hollering Dick,” she stated, still pale from fright. The ‘attack’ from the blacks had frightened her to the core. She had always been wary of them, but it seems like now she was scared of her own shadow. 

The second the huts ‘door’ flapped shut behind me, I knew that I didn’t want to see this. Dan was emerging from the far side of the field, and dragging with him a black boy, near enough to my own age. I could recognise him, had played alongside him in the creek mere months ago. To see him in such a state was terrifying. He was quivering like an injured dog, and I could see only one of his eyes. 

“Did you get one with a gun Mr. Thornhill? I never seen a dead person you know that?” Ned’s grating voice shook me. How could someone be so fascinated with such a terrible thing as death? I will never be able to understand his morbid curiosity. I tried to speak, tell him that it was wrong, but nothing would come out.  
Dan started to speak up, but not before the boy made an effort to get away. He was too weak though, and Dan was able to subdue him with little trouble. He pushed the boys arm further up his back, and I thought it might break. I shot out a hand, but there was little else I could do. I was too scared. After the beating Da gave me after he found me with the blacks, I had been warier of his presence. 

“Tie this one up like bait, shoot the others when they come to fetch him,” panted Dan, “Smasher done the same, told us it worked real good.” Ned’s abrasive laugh sounded as he mimed shooting a gun. 

“Learn ‘em real good!” He shouted, causing Ma to exit the hut. I could see the disgust on her face, but she did nothing but make sure that Bub stayed inside. 

“That’s enough of your lip, Ned,” growled Da, his voice oddly angry. Why would he be angry? He seems to hate the blacks just as much as Ned and Dan, his actions have shown that already.   
“Why don’t you just bugger off the lot of youse.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Surely, he wasn’t going to let the boy just leave. 

“Just get away out of here,” he shouted. Ned and Dan were still, just standing there, watching. They were angry, I could tell, as it seemed that Da had robbed them of their chance to kill. I could hear Ma shouting from the hut, but I couldn’t concentrate hard enough to decipher the words. I’m pretty sure she told them to let the boy go because not a moment later Da was yelling at him to leave. I stood there and watched as he limped through the corn and towards the tree line. I ached to run over and help him, but I was too much of a damn coward. I was too scared for my own wellbeing that I didn’t try to help one of the only people I felt I could be comfortable around. 

That day I realised something. The natives lived peacefully, only taking from the land what they truly needed, no more, no less. And they were happy for it. I could hear the songs and the laughter at night from inside the hut, taunting me. So, if the blacks were the peaceful ones, and we were the ones trying to kill them, who were the real savages?


End file.
